2 AM
by bs13
Summary: It's two in the morning, most definitely not a time for his neighbor to be singing karaoke of all things. (Random drabble modern!AU where Darcy lives in the apartment next to Loki.) Dedicated to rachelisafallenangel, whose birthday was two days ago!


**This story is for the amazing rachelisafallenangel (who has read it, actually, this is just a post here instead of ao3). She's one of my best friends ever and I can't stress how upset I was that I couldn't post this on the day of her birthday; I'm trying to grovel right now through my writing, if you'd notice.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

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><p>2 A.M. in the <em>fucking<em> morning.

The beats of upbeat music are enough to rouse anyone from their slumber, but accompanied by the loud voice that belts out lyrics, Loki awakens with a jolt at 2 A.M. in the morning, irritated and out of his mind. He had a long, boring day at the office the day before; all he wants is some sleep, and now, he's being denied of it.

Angrily, he gets out of bed, knowing right away who could be singing karaoke at two in the morning: his neighbor in the apartment next to him. Though Loki has never met her (or her roommate), he can tell by the constant parties she throws that she is trouble (and also has respectable taste in music, but that is for another day).

The only solution to get some sleep before work later on today, for Loki, is to go to the source of the problem. This prompts him to stalk out into the hall and knock on the door harshly, waiting to give the woman inside a piece of his mind.

Now, Loki knows he must appear as a mess, with his long black hair mussed, and his eyes probably bloodshot, but when his neighbor opens her door, he is surprised when she shrieks and slams the door in his face.

And, might he add, with a loud yell that sounded like: "Jesus Christ!"

Loki rubs the bridge of his nose (he does _not_ need this) starts to knock again.

A minute later, the door swings open slowly, and the same woman is at the door. "Hi," she tells him, sheepishly waving two fingers at him in an almost mock salute. "You're my neighbor, right?"

Loki ignores the question. "What is your problem?" he demands instead.

"Uh...you, coming by my house at two in the morning?" the woman offers.

"I _meant_ your karaoke," Loki barks.

"Well, it's not a problem to _me_, so...I don't get it. What's the big deal?"

Loki frowns. "You are singing karaoke at _two in the morning_," he snaps.

The woman shrugs. "Well, Aretha Franklin doesn't just _wait_ to rock a person's world," she tells him matter-of-factly. "Though, she definitely could wait for _you_. What's with your look? When I opened the door I thought you were a freaking vampire, come to suck my blood!"

"I did not come to discuss _me_," Loki seethes.

"Oh. Didja come for the Aretha? Because I'd been planning to move on to Janis Joplin. But for you I could whip out some Black Sabbath. You look like you'd be a Black Sabbath person. How's your Ozzy impersonation?" the woman questions.

"What-? No!" Loki exclaims. "I came to tell you to stop _singing_!"

The woman looks utterly baffled for a moment. "Um, I don't come knocking on _your_ door at two in the morning to bother _you_ about your singing. What makes you think you can do that to me?"

"I don't _sing_ at two in the morning," growls Loki in frustration.

"Well, you should— you'd need it, grumpy pants," says the woman decidedly.

Loki sighs, placing a finger on his temple soothingly. "Look, I'm sorry," he apologizes, feeling his anger ebb away. "I am just tired and your singing woke me up from a much needed sleep. I did not intend to come knocking on your door just to dictate what you do at two in the morning."

The woman shurgs. "Hey, no harm, no foul," she says. "I guess two in the morning's a pretty weird time to be jamming out anyway, but it's the first time my roommate has been out of the house, so I was like, 'I'll go for it!' and I kinda did, so, that was the karaoke. She doesn't like karaoke." She pauses to take in Loki's appearance. "You know, you're a really scary-looking dude."

Loki self-consciously reaches for his rumpled hair. "I was turning around in my bed for quite some time, attempting to go back to sleep," he admits, making excuse.

"That's awesome to hear, because my guess was 'getting high.' A druggie vampire...yeah, that's basically what I thought you were." The woman pauses. "Y'know, we're neighbors and I don't even know your name. I'm Darcy."

"Loki," says Loki, now confused by this _Darcy_. It's clear she makes rather asinine comments and babbles too much, but she is actually rather sharp-tongued and quick-witted...and not to mention very attractive. Though she is in sleepwear and has mascara smudged the slightest on her eyes, her blue eyes, fair skin, and soft features are very entrancing.

"Loki. Huh. That's a new one." Darcy leans against the side of her door, cocking her head to a side and studying Loki rather pointedly. "You look more like a Tim to me. Or a Robert."

"Thank you?" says Loki uncertainly.

"Anytime," Darcy says, looking very satisfied with herself and grinning before changing the subject. "So, how long have you lived in this place? Jane— she's my roommate— and I just moved in last year."

"I've only lived here one year longer than you have," Loki says.

"Really? What do you do?" Darcy asks.

"Pardon?"

"Like, your job. What do you do?"

"I'm a second-grade teacher," Loki says. "May I ask what it is that _you_ do?"

"I'm a freeloader. Nope, just kidding— I'm a sucky makeup salesperson," Darcy says. "I got my degree in political science, and obviously, you can't do much with that. I'm trying to get a better job right now, though, so yeah."

"A makeup salesperson. I've never heard of such a thing," Loki says slowly.

"Then you're lucky. Usually I'd say it doesn't apply to you because you're a guy, but they've been telling me at work to talk to guys too and say things like 'oh, your wife/sister/girlfriend would just _love_ this new brand of makeup' and shit like that," Darcy says, rolling her eyes. "It's ridiculous."

"Well, I haven't a wife, sister, or girlfriend, so I assume I'm in the clear," Loki jokes.

"Never assume. They _will_ find you— makeup salespeople are brutal."

"Is that a promise?" Loki questions, the flirtatious tone in his voice entering it before he even registers the change. Immediately, he feels embarrassed; he's never been this _forward_ before, and he's about to apologize...

Then, "Maybe."

Loki turns his head towards Darcy questioningly and finds her rooting through her pockets before she finds a pen, and when she holds out her hand, Loki slowly places his arm there. She scribbles her number on his skin messily before drawing a quick smiley face next to it.

"Call me," she tells him, grinning, and then she adds, "maybe."

When Loki goes back to sleep five minutes later and hears the opening beats to Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" from next door— paired with Darcy's loud, obnoxious vocals— he strangely doesn't mind.


End file.
